Let's Make a Deal
by Edna Baudelaire
Summary: Post Fang-Dr. God kidnaps Fang and attempts to make a deal with the flock: Fang for their cooperation. The remaining members of the flock kidnap Dr. God's daughter and offer a new trade: her for Fang. But what happens when Iggy refuses to let her go?Ig/OC
1. Chapter 1

A Bird for a Bird

By: Edna Baudelaire

Chapter One

Iggy's POV

The house was unusually quiet. I mean, Fang being gone doesn't make _that_ much of a difference. When he was here, he barely spoke a word, barely made a sound. When he was here, it was like he wasn't even here anyways. All I ever heard from him was a few mumbled words and the familiar almost silent footsteps he emitted as he shuffled across the carpet.

But Fang's absence has completely changed the members of the flock. Without Fang, everyone has been silent. Max barely comes out of her room, and I only see her occasionally.

Haha, see...

Blind humor, get it?

Without Fang, I can actually hear the outdoors, the wind playing across the window pane. I can hear the sun; the sound it emits as it hits the side of the house. I can hear _everything_.

And I have to admit, it feels extremely nice to not always be on the other end of one of Nudge's rants. She has kept her mouth shut and walks around the house like one of the living dead.

Even Gazzy has kept his...power...to himself.

Normally, I would embrace the silence. It's the only time I can actually think. I'm not distracted by random sounds.

But, it's _too_ much quiet.

_Too_ much silence.

The dead ringing singes my eardrums. With so much silence, I can't tell where I am. I normally use a member of the flock as a checkpoint, like a radar. But with no checkpoints, I'm lost.

I'm lost, in my own freakin' house.

I uttered a loud sigh of discontent as I had to resort to holding my hands out and actually feeling my surroundings, something I haven't had to do in a long while.

Don't get me wrong, I miss Fang just as much as the others, but everything has changed so much, that I'm more worried about where I'm walking rather than the ache in my heart. When he left, I felt like my heart was torn to shreds. Fang was my brother. Not "like" a brother. He was my Goddamn brother. He was my best buddy, my partner in crime. He was always there for me in every single battle, watching my back.

And now he's gone.

And where am I now?

Muttering angrily as my delicate white fingers flutter over the carpet floor and hopefully in the direction of my room.

Man, it really sucks being blind. Scratch that. It sucks knowing that someone can silently come up behind me, and I would never know until its too late. What sucks more than that is knowing that I have a vulnerability.

Just the fact that I have one is enough to set my heart aflame. Sometimes, it seems like I'm the only one. Everyone else is fine, they can see and hear and can always be on constant alert. They can do whatever they want.

And what can I do?

Cook.

That's about it.

That's all I'm good for.

Lasagna and crèmebrulee.

At least the flock will never go hungry.

It's the least I can do for having them lug me around all the time, for having to watch me and point me in the right direction.

They always tell me that I'm _not_ just a dead weight, that I _am_ an important member of the flock. But I can hear it in their voice; the hesitation, the uncertainty.

I'm a liability.

Just admit it.

My hand enclosed about the doorknob to my room. It was surprisingly cold, sending chills up my spine. I walked inside, the familiarity of my surroundings guiding me perfectly, and threw myself down on my bed. My feet hung off the edge and I growled, forcing them back up, curling into a small ball. I rubbed my temples slowly, already feeling an uncomfortable headache creeping up.

_So much quiet._

The ringing in my ears increased. Without sound, I was stuck with this unbearable noise.

I shoved the pillow over my face, praying the ringing would quiet, but it only made it louder. I shut my eyes, seeing the same darkness I did when they were open.

I couldn't take this anymore, this insane ringing, the pain, the quiet.

Goddammit, it was time to find Fang and get things back to normal.

_Now_.

...

"Everyone! Up and at 'em! Meet in the living room! Flock meeting! Now!" I yelled as I slowly walked around the house, my hands trailing along the hallway walls, occasionally knocking obnoxiously once I found a door. I heard one open to my left and recognized Max's footsteps.

"What's going on, Iggy?" she mumbled sleepily.

I turned towards her. "I'm calling a flock meeting in the living room."

She scratched her head. "Ig, it's late."

"How late?"

"Like, 1 am late."

Oh.

Oops.

"It doesn't matter. Can you just round everyone up and get them to the living room. Please?"

She gave an irritated sigh before her footsteps traveled down the hall, entering Nudge and Angel's room, muttering quietly. I felt my way back to the living room and sat in a chair.

Fang's chair.

I listened silently as they all shuffled in, talking in hushed, confused whispers. Once everyone was seated, Max tapped my hand. I stood up, taking a deep breath.

"It's time to find Fang," I announced. I heard Max flinch in her seat and suck in a small breath. The kids fell silent.

"What do you mean?" Gazzy asked, sleep thickening his voice.

"Look at you all," I exclaimed. "You've been walking around like zombies since he left. We have done absolutely _nothing_. We've fallen apart, and it's painful to watch."

"But Iggy, you're blind," Nudge added.

"Thank you for reminding me," I said, my throat dry. "I know you all have noticed the change. It's time to pick ourselves up again. And the only way to do that, is to find Fang."

"But," Max started. "He said in 20 years-"

"Yes, yes I know. But since when do you actually listen to what Fang says? You're _Max_. You're the _leader_. You're in charge of the well-being of this flock."

She stood up, and I could feel her step in front of me. I may have towered over her physically, but metaphorically, the anger and rage emanating from her made me feel 2 feet tall.

"Fang doesn't want to be found," she spat. "If he left me," she stopped. "Us, for a reason, the least we could do is abide by his favors. He did it for a reason. Why should we screw everything up?"

I opened my mouth to throw back a vehement remark when I heard the familiar electronic buzz of the computer in the corner booting up. That's strange. I didn't hear anyone get up to turn it on...

"What the-" Max muttered, walking forward.

"Good evening, Flock. How are you all today?" A familiar voice asked in a pleased and cocky voice. The flock uttered small gasps of surprise before jumping to their feet.

"What's going on?" I asked quietly.

Max's hand enclosed around my wrist. "It's Dr. Hans Gunther-Hagen," she said. "And he has Fang."

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

Let's Make a Deal

By: Edna Baudelaire

Chapter Two

Iggy's POV

I reeled back, the metaphorical slap in the face making my cheek sting. Dr. God had Fang? How could this have happened?

"What do you want?" Max spat, drawing closer to the computer, her hand still enclosed about my wrist. Her nails were razor sharp, biting into my skin like the words flowing out of Dr. God's mouth.

"I believe it's time for a negotiation," he suggested, his voice contorted by the electric current. "After all, you wouldn't want your 'friend' to get hurt, would you?" His tone exuded fake sweetness, sending chills up my spine.

I heard Max swallow before continuing: "What do you want?" Her voice shook, causing my eyes to widen. It was happening. She was losing it.

She was putting her heart before her mind.

"Max-" I started.

"Not now, Iggy," she spat. I wrenched my hand out of hers and took a step back, holding my arm out. Thankfully, Angel took hold of it and directed me to her side, her grip less poisonous than Max's.

"Oh, it's simple really," Dr. God said didactically. "As you all know, I've been craving your cooperation for a while now, but you seem to act somewhat _reluctant_. So, I've come to the conclusion that it's time to stop being Mr. Nice Guy and take things up a notch. I believe the price I have now may change your mind."

"Don't do it Max," Fang croaked, his voice thick with pain. I heard Max gasp at the sound of his voice.

"No Max," Dr. God said, a smile in his voice. "Do it, if you want to save your boyfriend. What do you say? Do we have a deal?"

The silence in the room ticked by uncomfortably as Max contemplated. She wouldn't do it. She _couldn't_. She knew what was best for the flock-

"When and where do we meet you?" She asked.

But she didn't care...

I cursed under my breath and took a step forward, only to have Angel tighten her grip. I felt Nudge tug on one of my belt loops, holding me back.

Dr. God released a delighted laugh and clapped his hands together. "How wonderful! How about we meet at my pent house, only a couple hours from you? As soon as this transmission ends, the map will appear on your screen. And as for the time, how about Thursday, around 3? That way, we can have some tea? Yes?"

Thursday? It was only around 1 am, on Wednesday. I could change this. I could change Max's mind. I had to.

"We'll be there," Max affirmed, her voice full of emotion.

"Wonderful," Dr. God said. "Thursday. 3."

An electronic buzz filled my ears as the screen changed.

"Someone hit print," Max ordered. "We need that map."

"Are you serious?" I asked, trying not to raise my voice, but failing miserably. "We are _not_ going to work for Dr. God. Are you insane?"

She sat in a chair, her hands running through her hair. "What else do you suggest we do? If that was you, you would want us to do anything to save you."

"But Fang is not me," I said, tugging forward, Nudge and Angel desperately trying to hold me back. "There is one big difference. Fang does not want to be found. Max, you have to get over him. It's over."

Ouch.

An unbearable silence filled the room as that one sunk in. Nudge let go of my pants and Angel stepped away, her hand grazing mine as she released me.

"Iggy," Max started, her voice shaking.

"Were you not just saying that he doesn't want to be found? Now your going to go back on what you just said to go get him! You're being a hypocrite!

_Boom_.

Her body collided with mine and we flew towards the ground, her fists repeatedly making contact with my face. Her knees crushed into my ribs and stomach and I could hear the cracking of bone. My breath left my body in one big _whoosh_, and I couldn't get it back. I couldn't breathe.

My hands snaked up her body and I grabbed hold of her hair, tugging down as hard as I could. A shriek of rage escaped her lips as she grabbed my wrist with both hands, about to break it-

"Stop!" Angel shouted. Her voice didn't only echo throughout the room, but in my head as well.

"Angel," Max started, spitting blood from her mouth. "What did I tell you about using your mind-control on the flock?"

"Sit!" Angel commanded. I sat without meaning to.

"Angel, I am not a dog!" Max shouted.

"Woof woof," I said menacingly.

"Shut up!" Max's fist collided with my arm, which collided with my already broken ribs, causing me to yelp and fall from the chair. My body hit the ground with a loud thud. I attempted to suck in as much breath as I could, but my ribs ached painfully with each inhale and exhale.

"Stop it! You two are acting like children!" Angel shouted, all mother-like. Well at least _someone_ was acting mother-like.

Nudge and Gazzy carefully snaked their arms around me, repositioning me in the chair. I didn't know whether to shove them away or thank them, so I settled on remaining quiet and plastering a brooding look on my face. Both my arms wrapped around my body, trying to keep it from falling apart.

"Are they broken?" Max asked, her voice softening.

"Why the Hell would you care?" I shouted, wincing as the effort caused sharp pinpricks of pain to spread over my chest. I shut my eyes and leaned back against the chair, my body tense.

"Let me help-" she said, her hand resting on my arm. I reeled back, her touch like fire on my skin.

"_Don't you dare touch me_," I spat.

Max opened her mouth to argue but Angel beat her to the punchline. "Both of you stop it! I've got an idea." I scooted as far away as possible from Max, drawing my knees up to my chest, praying that the pain would give me a break long enough to suck in a valid breath. "During our last encounter with Dr. Hans, I was able to read his mind and I found out a couple things we could use against him. One in particular will definitely stop him in his tracks."

Max edged farther forward in her seat. "What did you hear?" she asked, her voice full of regret and excitement.

"Dr. Hans has a daughter."

We all sucked in a breath. Mine came out in a series of painful coughs and curses. Max's hand gripped my arm and no matter how much I tried to shake her off, she stood her ground.

"Sit up straight. Let them heal." she said lightly. The anger coursing through my veins wanted nothing more than to punch her square in the face. But the pain in my chest caused me to listen and straighten up. I kept my mouth shut, locking up any vehement remarks that desperately wanted to escape.

"OK, he has a daughter," Nudge said. "But what does that mean for us?"

"We make a new proposition," Angel announced, the smile audible in her small voice. "His daughter for Fang. It's an deal he won't be able to say 'no' to."

"That's great and all, Angel, but how would we capture her? I'm pretty sure the daughter of an evil scientist is extremely well-guarded-"

"Not really," Angel said matter-of-factly. "I know exactly where she is. There are guards, but they're all normal, human."

"We could take 'em," Gazzy said, cracking his knuckles.

Max stood up. "When should we go?"

I heard fabric running along fabric as Angel shrugged her shoulders.

"Iggy," Max started. "How long do you think it will take till you can fly?"

I swallowed all the things I wanted to spit in her face, and managed a small: "I don't know."

"We'll give it a couple hours," she said. "And then, we are outta here."

They gathered in the middle, about to pile their fists on top of one another, our little ritual. I stood up, about to join-

And then walked away and locked myself in my room, breathing fervidly as the pain consumed my senses.

* * *

Some reviews would be absolutely wonderful...


	3. Chapter 3

Let's Make a Deal

By: Edna Baudelaire

Chapter Three

Iggy's POV

Vehement curses silently spilled from my mouth as I clutched my rib cage, forcing myself to forget the insane rage that coursed through my veins. An image of Max popped into my mind, causing my temper to flare up, like gasoline thrown into a billowing flame. How could she be so selfish? She would risk the entire flock for Fang? This isn't something that Fang would want. What the Hell is she thinking?

My sensitive ears picked up on the soft murmurs flowing in from the living room.

At least it wasn't quiet anymore. The dead ringing had stopped, finally giving me a break.

I lay on my bed, silently fuming when I heard a soft knock at the door.

"Iggy?" Max called lightly.

"What do you want?" I growled.

She sighed. "Can I come in?"

"No," I spat.

She came in anyways.

Her feet dragged across the carpet top as she neared my bed. It creaked as she sat upon it.

"I'm sorry," she said hurriedly. I opened my eyes, greeted by the never-ending darkness.

"Right," I said, sitting up, hissing as the pain spread like wildfire.

Her hand guided me back down. "Lie down. Keep straight, or it will heal wrong."

I sat up.

She sighed and crossed her arms defiantly. "Listen, I know you're angry. You have every right to be. But...this is something we have to do."

"No we don't," I argued. "Fang left for a reason. You said so yourself, that he didn't want to be found."

"Well, weren't you just saying how you wanted to go find him?" she countered.

Damn. She had me there.

"That was before there was such a huge price," I said matter-of-factly.

"There has always been a price, and you've known that. Everything we do has a price."

I lied back down, feeling her smile.

"There you go," she said. "Don't worry. Things will work out. Angel's plan is perfect." She stopped. "Wow, I never thought those words would ever come out of my mouth."

I cracked a smile.

She patted my shoulder. "Take a couple hours to rest. Once you're all healed up, it's time to go. OK?"

I was not OK, but I nodded anyways. She ran her hand through my hair before carefully walking out of the room, making sure to shut off my light before she went.

What a difference. It's not like I can see it anyways.

…

I awoke hours later, an annoying soreness covering my chest, but otherwise fly-able. I walked into the living room, listening to my flock scramble, searching for the necessities.

"Nudge, did you grab the rope?"

"Yup. Did you grab the duct tape?"

"Yup. Gazzy, what's that in your hand?"

"Nothing," he answered, a little too quickly. Max sighed and continued to pack. I walked over to the fridge and felt around, hoping my hand would come across some cake or something, but only felt jars and containers. I opened one up and sniffed.

Eww.

I threw it away, feeling someone whiz by, sticking something in my hand. It was a banana.

I blushed furiously and mumbled a small "thanks" to whoever it was, but they were already gone, disappeared into the flurry of noise surrounding me. I peeled it carefully, grumbling, pissed off that I can't even find a freakin' banana in my own house.

"Is everyone ready?" Max asked, handing me a heavy backpack. I carefully put it on, making sure to get it perfectly in the middle of my wings. A chorus of "yes"'s and "ready as I'll every be"'s met my ears. We stepped onto the balcony, the wind playing across my face. I smiled and shut my eyes, letting it bathe over me, feeling an excitement to get back in the air. I jumped before Max gave the signal, laughing as my wings snapped open, collecting the clean forest air. I heard the others join me, a joyful quiet filling the night sky.

"Angel," Max called. "You lead the way."

"Okie dokie!" she answered, soaring ahead. I shook my head. I was putting my faith into a six year old.

"I'm seven!" she shouted, the wind carrying her voice.

_Get out of my mind_, I reminded her. Her giggled echoed throughout my cranium. I grounded my teeth together, settling in for the long flight.

…

"Here we are," Angel announced. Max tapped my hand twice, and whispered the coordinates in my ear. We landed in the treetops, overlooking the facility.

"It's...just a house," Gazzy stated. "Are you sure this is it Angel?"

"Yup," she said brightly. "See the guards?"

"Yes," I said jokingly. Nudge punched me on the arm lightly, giggling. "Hey! I'm still recovering!" I ruffled her hair.

"All right, here's the game plan," Max declared. "Gazzy, you take your bomb and set it up near the garage door-"

"Bomb? I have no idea what you are talking about..."

"Gazzy, I wasn't born yesterday. I saw you slip it in your bag earlier."

"Dang it," he whispered under his breath. I smiled.

"Once it detonates, we'll break in. Angel and I will go straight for the daughter-"

"Anya," Angel broke in.

"What?" Max asked.

"Her name is Anya."

Max blinked. "Fine. Angel and I will go straight for _Anya_. Iggy and Gazzy, take out any other guards with any bombs you have."

"What makes you think we have an unlimited supply of explosives?" Gazzy asked defiantly.

"Oh, it might be your insanely heavy backpack or the way your pockets bulge. Maybe it's that."

"Dang it," Gazzy exclaimed again.

"Nudge, Gazzy and Iggy. You guys focus on the guards. They should be pretty easy. Angel and I will call once we've capture the daughter-"

"Anya," Angel corrected. Max gave a sigh of irritation before putting her hand in the middle. This time, I joined in. We flew down to the ground, landing with a feather light touch.

Haha. Feather.

Get it? Because we're bird kids-

Oh never mind...

"Go," Max ordered. I looped a finger through on of Gazzy's belt loops and I heard Nudge running alongside me. We stopped in front of what I guess was the garage.

"Which one did you bring?" I asked, kneeling down beside him.

"The Big Boy 2."

I silently laughed. "Let me take care of it." He stepped aside and I ran my hands along it, feeling the wire colors. Expertly, I rigged it up, plugging a blue wire in there, and a yellow one there. I set the timer.

10 seconds.

"Let's get the Hell out of here," I suggested, unfolding my wings. I shot upwards, hearing Gazzy to my left and Nudge to my right. At around 300 feet, we heard the explosion.

Game time.

We swooped down, Nudge constantly muttering coordinates. I listened intently, landing on the asphalt.

"7 guards. 1, 2, 6 and 7 o'clock. Now." I lunged forward, my hand colliding with someone's chest. The breath escaped their lungs and I heard the breaking of bone.

"I feel for you man," I said, my foot stomping down on his head, knocking him out cold. "I've been there before."

"Iggy! Behind you!" Gazzy shouted. I whipped around, only to get clocked in the face. I ignored the pain, using the centrifugal force to swing myself around, colliding my foot with their face. They went down with an ominous thud.

It felt great to be out again, using my muscles, using my senses. I've been cooped up for too long.

Gazzy's laughter rang in my ears as I heard his gaseous power take effect. A couple of bodies hit the floor, gagging.

_We've_ been cooped up for too long.

Nudge bumped into my back, her frizzy hair brushing my neck. "They're all around us, Iggy." she warned. "And they've got guns."

I licked my lips, trying to think. "You've got a cool power, don't you?" I asked. She remained quiet for a moment, before releasing a loud "Oooh!" The sound of guns ripping from the guards hands and landing in Nudges brought a smile to my face.

"I love being a magnet!" she shouted.

I laughed. "Now put the guns down," I said, only half-joking. She dropped them and the sound of the guards slowly advancing towards us reached my ears. In the next second, they lunged. My fists flew quickly, repeatedly making contact with multiple guards. They got a couple hits in, but they barely made a difference.

"Ow!" Nudge yelped. "I just did my hair, you jerk!" Her back hit mine again, so I wrapped my arms around hers and hoisted her up. I heard loud _oomphs_ of pain as her feet collided with numerous faces.

"Hey Iggy!" Gazzy called. "You have to see this! I ripped his underwear giving him a wedgie!"

I laughed, wishing more than anything that I _could_ see him. Instead I yelled: "Good job, Gazzy! Give them Hell!"

At that moment, a gunshot rang through my ears. It echoed in the night sky, making it impossible for me to judge where it came from.

"Let's go, go go!" Max commanded, flying from the house. The gunshots continued and I looked wildly about, not seeing anything. I didn't hear Gazzy or Nudge anymore. They were gone.

I tried to focus on the location of the gunshots but it was impossible. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere, from every direction.

"Ma-_oof_!" One of the guards tackled me and we flew to the ground. _Oh, not this again.._.

I lifted my head up and found his shoulder. I bit down. _Hard_. He cried out in pain, but I refused to let go.

That is, until another guard kicked me in the head. Then, I let go, dazed and confused.

The gunshots were closer.

"Iggy!" Angel called, landing beside me. "We've got to go now!"

I growled. "Sorry, I was doing this for fun. Didn't mean to hold you guys up." She tapped my hand twice and we took to the air. The gunshots sickeningly close.

Wait a minute.

"Angel, do you have a gun, sweetie?" I asked.

"Yup."

_Holy shit_.


	4. Chapter 4

Let's Make a Deal

By: Edna Baudelaire

Chapter Four

Iggy's POV

I stared in horror, thankful for once that I _couldn't_ see the gun clutched in her tiny hand. She giggled and I shook my head, refusing to believe that my six year old sister had a gun.

"Seven," she corrected.

I ground my teeth together. "Honey, how about you give me the gun?"

She made sure to _humph_ loudly before softly pressing the gun into my palm. I held it out at arms length, calling out to Max for a little assistance.

"Hey Max!" I shouted over the wind that kept whipping the words right from my mouth. "You know your smallest member of the flock had a gun, right?"

She flew over to my side, her wings steady and confident in the soft night breeze. "Yeah, I gave it to her."

My mouth opened in surprise. I quickly shut it, so as to not catch any flies. We _were_ in the air after all...

"_You what_?"

"My hands were full," she explained, shrugging her shoulders, fabric sliding over fabric.

"Full of what?"

"The hostage."

Oh.

That's when I noticed the small murmuring coming from somewhere beneath Max.

"Let me out of here!" a small voice exclaimed, terrified. "I didn't do anything wrong! Please!"

"Looks like we caught ourselves some bait," I commented.

Max smiled. "Yup. Now it's time to go fishing."

"Uh-oh," Angel muttered. Now, when the freaky si-_seven_ year old say's "Uh oh", you know some serious shit is about to go down.

"What now?" I asked, frowning.

"Anya's not like other people," she answered.

"What do you mean, sweetie?" Max asked, her voice dancing around the edges of anger, yet still, somehow, retaining some form of kindness.

"She's not human," Angel replied. She flew down to the bag Max was currently holding and gave it a sharp poke.

"Ow!" the voice inside exclaimed. "What do you want from me?"

I could hear her nails attempting to claw her way out of the bag. I could sense her fear, her terror. A sharp pang of regret settled in my stomach. This was not a good plan.

"You're wrong," Angel said, repositioning beside me, her wings barely brushing mine. "It'll work. Don't worry. It will be fine."

Where have I heard that before?

At that moment, I became immensely aware that I still had the gun clasped in my shaking hand. It burned my skin. I stared into the darkness, revolted. "Max, can we trade? I'd rather hold a screaming, terrified hostage than this death machine."

The trade was awkward, mid-air. Needless to say, I almost dropped the bait. She only fell about 20 feet, but I caught her, don't worry. Her screams soon turned into muffled sobs. They vibrated through the bag, and up my arms.

"Don't worry," I whispered. "We're landing soon."

She didn't answer me.

Well so much for trying to be _nice_.

I growled, repositioning the handle, where it was biting into my flesh. But I set my jaw and endured it, much more pleased to be holding the _rude_ hostage, than the gun that burned my skin to the touch.

"Iggy!" Max called out. "Landing, 23 degrees, north, north east. Three seconds." I silently counted and positioned my wings in a downward motion, traveling in a circular form. Finally, my feet touched the familiar solid ground of our front yard. I rotated my shoulder blades, letting them relax after a long, drawn out flight. I set the bag on the ground, hearing the sounds of her desperately trying to escape again. That's when I noticed a very peculiar sound emanating from the bag...

"Angel?" I asked quietly. "What did you mean when you said she wasn't human?"

She skipped over to my side.

"She's like us, Iggy." Angel strode over to the bag and untied it. Max was there to grab the hostage before she ran away. "She has wings."

Or...before she flies away.

I couldn't believe it. No wait, I could. She was the daughter of an evil scientist. It was like Ari all over again. I strode forward, running my hands over her wings. They were a deep auburn, with flecks of black and white. She slapped my hand away, using much more force than a normal human.

"Don't touch me!" she shouted, attempting to stand upright, but Max's hand (or death glare, take your pick) kept her down.

"Where is your father keeping Fang?" Max shouted in her ear.

The girl remained silent, her eyes shut tight, muttering incoherently. Max grabbed the girl by the shoulders, shaking her violently. "I know you can hear me! Answer me!"

"She can't hear you," Angel said slowly, unsure. We all turned to look at her. Well, except me.

The girl kept muttering as Angel continued. "She's deaf."

My head snapped up, surprised.

"Well, this changes things," Nudge muttered. "We went fishing for a normal, human girl, but caught a deaf bird girl. How interesting..."

Max growled, getting in the hostage's face. She made sure the girl was looking before continuing. "Can you lip read?"

She looked around, terrified, trembling, before slowly nodding yes. Max grabbed her face, forcing her gaze to return to hers.

"_.Fang_?" She asked menacingly.

"I-I-I don't k-know," she replied, close to tears. "I d-don't even know who F-fang is. Please don't hurt me."

Max looked like she might do just that. I rested my hand gently on her shoulder.

"You need to calm down," I said, guiding her away from the hostage. She sat down on the bench outside of our house, fuming. I trudged back over to Angel and the others. Angel was talking softly to the hostage-

"Her name is Anya," her voice broke my thoughts. I looked up, surprised. "Stop calling her a hostage. She has a name. Use it."

"What did I tell you about invading my thoughts, Angel?" I sneered, extremely pissed.

"It's kind of hard when you're screaming them."

"I'm not screaming anything!" I shouted.

"Well, _now_ you are," she said, giggling. The rage coursed through my veins. I cursed silently under my breath before crossing my arms defiantly, sending very hateful thoughts to my younger sister.

"Ma-ax!" she shouted. "Iggy's being mean to me!"

"Iggy, shut-up," Max ordered, rubbing her temples. "Stop being mean and just cooperate."

I had so many things I wanted to say at that moment, but I swallowed it all down, still feeling the nasty ache in my ribs.

Yeah, I kept my mouth shut this time.

I may be blind, but I learn quickly.

"Can we go inside?" Gazzy asked, tugging on Max's arm. "I'm hungry."

"Yeah, let's go. I'm starving!" Nudge whined. When is that girl _not_ starving?

Gazzy and Nudge flew to the top of the house, landing lightly before running inside, scouring the kitchen. They better not touch the chocolate bar I had hidden behind the mayonnaise.

"Do you know how to fly?" Angel asked _Anya_ softly. She nodded before extending her wings, slicing the night air.

Max appeared, grabbing Anya's arm. "Try to escape and I'll break both your wing's. Got it?"

"Y-yes."

I snapped my wings open, still sore from the long flight. But I still enjoyed the sensation of air filing though my feathers, my hair. The moonlight streamed across my face, and I felt like I could fall asleep right there, 200 feet above the ground.

But then, you know...I'd probably die.

So I decided to land and sleep in my bed instead. Much safer there.

I walked into the kitchen, hearing the others landing softly behind me. Max walked Anya over to the couch and shoved her onto it.

"Are you going to hurt me?" Anya asked, fear dripping from her voice like honey.

"No, we're not going to hurt you," Angel responded. "We need you to get somebody back from your father."

"So you're not going to run any tests on me?" I blinked, perplexed.

"No..." Angel said slowly.

"This isn't another section of The School?" she asked.

"Heavens no," Gazzy said, taking another bite of something that smelled chocolatey. It slowly dawned on me. _My chocolate_. I had hidden it behind the mayonnaise for Pete's sake! No one ever looks back there! I made a mental note to myself to beat his face in once things settled down.

"So...so...I'm out?" Anya asked, hope in her voice. "I'm not at the school anymore."

"No..."

Anya burst into tears, shoving her face in her hands. I walked forward to comfort her, but realized, they weren't tears of sorrow.

They were tears of happiness.

* * *

Please review! Tell me what you think! I'm desperate to see what you guys think so far!

Edna B.


	5. Chapter 5

Let's Make a Deal

By: Edna Baudelaire

Chapter Five

Iggy's POV

All of us stood there, too shocked to speak. We thought we were stealing her _away_ from the school, not rescuing her _from it_.

It's a win-win situation, huh?

Anya's sobs racked her body, echoing in my ears, my mind. Suddenly, she wasn't a hostage anymore.

She was a victim.

I sat on the couch, confused and perplexed.

"W-what do you mean?" Max asked, but Anya's face was turned away. Angel rested a hand on Anya's shoulder, and I could tell she was communicating through her mind. Anya's head shot up.

"Of course I'm his daughter. But only by blood. Nothing else. He's no father to me." She burst into tears once again. I've never really...comforted a crying girl before so I had no idea what to do. I thought about patting her shoulder comfortingly, but quickly decided against it, realizing I probably had less comforting bones in my body than Max did. And believe me, that's a feat.

So I settled on staring at the floor with my sightless eyes, my hands writhing in my lap.

Wow, look at me. What a catch.

"Tell us everything you know," Max ordered, getting that malevolent glint in her eyes.

Anya looked shocked, but spoke. Despite her being deaf, her voice was surprisingly clear.

"When I was small, I never knew what my father did for a living. I've always had wings, but I kinda thought that's the way all kids were. I never had anyone to compare myself to. My father always kept me secluded, so I thought I was normal." She took a breath and continued. "They always had these...tests for me. They were so painful. But my father said it was something everyone had to go through, and I believed him."

"How did you go deaf?" Nudge asked. Wow, way to be blunt.

Anya gazed at the floor, sorrow evident in her small voice. "Last year, I went in for a surgery and I thought it would be like all the others. Normal. But, when I woke up, everything was silent. My father was talking to me...but I couldn't hear him."

I shivered. Finally, someone to relate to...

"I've learned to cope. My father refused to teach me sign language. He say's being deaf is a weakness and 'no daughter of mine shall be weak'. So, they taught me how to lip read, so no one would know. I guess I didn't really keep it a secret, did I?"

The room got uncomfortably silent before she continued, her voice swelling with bottled-up anger and frustration. "I've learned a lot about myself in the past year. I've learned that I'm stronger than I thought I was. I've forced my father to tell me everything. I know now that I'm a freak. I'm not normal, as he lead me on to believe when I was a child. I'm a failed experiment. That's all I am, and all I will ever be."

"I know what you mean." The words tumbled from my mouth before I even had the chance to think about it. I mentally slapped myself, shrinking back into my chair, praying that it would swallow me up.

"What do you mean?" she asked, leaning forward. I could feel her scrutinizing glare raking over my body. "You guys are all like me, in the wing aspect, but you guys don't know what it feels like to have a sense stolen from you-"

"Iggy's blind," Max cut in.

Anya froze, shocked. Why wouldn't this damn chair swallow me up already?

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said. Iggy's blind. When we were at the school, he went in for surgery, and just like you, had a sense stolen from him. He's been blind for about 7 years now."

I could feel the humiliation creeping up into my cheeks, hot and uncomfortable. The room was silent. No one knew what to say.

Again with the damn silence.

I decided to break it. "Gazzy, you ate my Goddamn chocolate."

He looked up surprised. I heard something crinkling as he hid it behind his back. "Are you sure you're blind?"

"Yes, I am blind you idiot. But I can still smell and hear. I hid that behind the mayonnaise for a reason."

"Oops."

"Yeah, 'Oops'. I'm totally going to kill you."

"You two are really fighting over chocolate at a time like this?" Max asked incredulously. "We just rescued a deaf bird girl from the School, and you two are fighting over a a bag of M&M's? Seriously?"

"They're coconut! Special edition!" I explained. "You know they're my favorite!"

Max rubbed her temples. "Gazzy, give them back to Iggy so we can get back to the more serious subject, _please_."

Gazzy shoved the bag into my arms, grumbling.

"So, not to be rude or anything," Anya started. "But, why am I here?"

"Well, you see," Max explained. "Your father has a member of our Flock. He wants to trade, him for our cooperation."

Anya cursed, ashamed.

"So, we decided to come up with a new trade-"

"Me for him?" she asked, sorrow in her voice.

"Well...yes."

"I don't want to go back. I won't." Anya said, putting her foot down.

Max fell silent, unsure of what to say.

"I mean, I feel for you guys. I really do. It's a crappy situation that you're in. But, if I learned one thing from my father, it's to look after myself. And I won't let you give me back to him."

Max stood, frustration guiding her actions. "You will do as we tell you. We took you hostage for a reason. _You_ don't tell _us_ what to do."

"I may be deaf, but I could kick your ass," Anya said, standing up.

Whoa.

Let me repeat myself. _Whoa_.

Our hostage just threatened to kick Max's ass.

Say it with me: _Holy shit_!

Max's body tensed, preparing for a fight. I jumped up, positioning myself between the two of them.

"Alright! Well! What a rough, long night we have had! How about we turn in, eh? Get some rest? Then maybe, once we are rested, the both of you won't be, I don't know, _complete psychotics who want to kill each other?"_

_"_Watch it, Iggy," Max warned. "I'm PMSing."

I backed away, shoving the M&M's in her hand. I've known Max for as long as I can remember. I know that when she's PMSing, to _stay out of her way_. And chocolate has never hurt either.

"Ig, I think you are right," Angel said. "I think we all need a rest. Let's go to bed."

"No way!" Max shouted. "I don't trust her. She'll take flight as soon as I close my eyes."

"You bet I will," Anya growled.

"Enough," Angel ordered. Whenever she executed her mind-controlling powers, I got an uncomfortable prickling on the back of my neck. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore it. "Max, Anya and I will sleep in Max's room tonight. Anya, you will not leave this house, under any circumstance. Max, you will not touch a hair on her head. We will figure out what to do in the morning. Right now, we all need rest. We're all tired and cranky and not thinking straight."

"Angel," Max started, vehemently, but trudged to her room, Anya following close behind. I couldn't see, but I knew she would have a terrified, confused look plastered to her face.

"Everyone, go to bed. Now," Angel ordered.

My feet, thinking alone, carried myself to my room and threw myself onto my bed. I turned over, pulling the sheets over my face, reflecting on the past day's events.

Wow.

_What a day._

Well, I was the one who wanted an adventure, for the silence to end. I wanted to find Fang, to put a stop to all the quiet. I wanted a change.

I guess I got what I wanted.

What did I get myself into?

I tossed and turned, reflecting upon the emotion in Anya's voice. She's gone from hysterical, to sorrow, to frustration, to anger to murderous rage. Hmm. It was like Max when she didn't get her chocolate.

Deep down, I was eccentric. I finally found someone like me. Someone who can actually feel my pain. The Flock felt for me, but they didn't _understand_. They don't know what it's like for me.

Anya does.

I tossed again, wishing I could fall asleep like other boys, with an image of a girl etched into my mind. But I have never seen Anya's face, so I fell asleep wondering.

Wondering what could be.

…

I awoke hours later, the grogginess consuming my senses. I rubbed my sightless eyes, anticipating the warmth of the sun on my skin, but it never came.

That's weird. It must still be nighttime. But why did I wake up?

Oh yeah, it might be the fact that Max was running around the house, screaming and banging on our doors, telling us to "Up and Away."

And that's when I heard them.

Erasers.

Say it with me, one more time: _Holy shit_.

* * *

One tiny review would_ really _make my day :D

Edna B.

And hurrah for coconut M&M's! They're flipping amazing!


	6. Chapter 6

Let's Make a Deal

By: Edna Baudelaire

Chapter Six

Iggy's POV

Damn. And I was having such a good dream too. There was something about a girl who understood me, and what I've gone through. Her voice was so beautiful...

An explosion came from the other side of my door, and I realized that this is no time for reflecting upon dreams. It was action time.

I sprang up and raced to my door, flinging it open. And that's when I heard them. Above the shouting of my flock, I heard their malicious laughter, and the sickening beating of their defectively sewed on wings. Their overlarge feet trudged across the carpet, pounded across the linoleum, thundered across the rooftop. I ran into the hallway, the strong, dark smell of smoke filling my nostrils.

Max whipped by, grabbing my hand, pulling me into the air.

"Let's get out of here!" she said, flapping harder and harder, getting away from our infested home. "Is everyone here? Two, Four, Five...Let's go!"

We raced towards the heavens, hightailing it out of there. But I heard something peculiar that made me pause. Despite our getaway, I heard no telltale signs of anyone following us. Although, I did hear a girl screaming.

Not one of the Flock...

It then dawned on me.

The girl with the beautiful voice wasn't from just my dream.

She was real.

And she was trapped in a burning house that was being overtaken by Erasers who would surely take her right back to the School. Everything from the past day rushed back quickly, causing my wings to stop flapping. I fell 20 feet before catching myself, Max's arm clenching mine the whole time.

"What the Hell are you doing?" she screamed. "Are you hurt?

"Anya!" I screamed, shaking my head, the smoke-filled wind whipping the words from my mouth. I kicked Max off, not even caring if I hurt her. I flew back towards Anya, the one girl who understood me. Back in the direction of the shouts, the fire, and the danger.

I landed lightly, the floorboards groaning under my weight as they buckled from the heat. Anya's screams grew louder, her small fists pounding on the walls. I raced towards Max's room, knocking into some Eraser's, but disposing of them quickly. My adrenaline rush and desperation pushed me forward, giving me strength I had no idea I possessed.

I finally reached the doorway, barreling through it, and right into Anya. I grabbed her arm, forcing her out the room, but at the doorway she wouldn't budge. I let go and took hold of her shoulders.

"Come on! What are you doing?" I shouted, making sure her eyes followed my lips.

She shook her head. "I can't get out the doorway!"

"Why not?" It was hard to hear over the roaring flames and Eraser shouts, but I strained my ears, locating her panic-stricken voice.

"Every time I try to go through the doorway, it's like a wall!"

"What?" And then it dawned on me. Before we had gone to bed the previous night, Angel had given out some "orders". She forbade Anya to leave Max's room, _under any circumstances_.

But this was one Hell of a circumstance.

And Angel was probably miles away by now, and couldn't tell Anya to disregard her other order and get her butt the Hell out of here.

I ran my hand through my hair, praying the fire wouldn't let the roof collapse on us or Eraser's wouldn't barge in at any moment.

But from past experience, I knew Fate and I weren't great friends, so I had to act quickly.

I paced the room, the ceiling slowly buckling, as I thought of a way to get us out of this. The Flock was nowhere near us, I couldn't hear them anymore. So it was just me, Anya, a burning house and a horde of Eraser's. I had to think, and I had to think quick.

Angel forbade Anya to leave the room. OK...yes. I got that much. That doesn't help me...

But she never forbade me to forcefully remove Anya from the room.

Before I could make a move, I heard two things happen. One, the roof finally collapsed, raining painful, scorching debris on our heads. Two, a group of Eraser's appeared in the doorway.

Without thinking, I grabbed Anya tightly, forcing her body to mold to mine-

And launched us into the air. The burned floorboards scraped our skin as we passed by and the Eraser's grabbed a hold of our feet, but we quickly kicked them off. Flying through the ceiling, I got that unpleasant tingling in the back of my neck, and Anya felt heavier than ever. Her screams reached my ears as she slowly started to slip. We broke into the night sky, gulping in fresh air.

"Angel!" I yelled. The farther and farther I traveled from the house, the heavier Anya seemed to be getting. It was like the house was holding her back. Like Angel's order was still clinging to her. "Angel!"

"What the Hell were you thinking?" Max shouted as she flew up beside me, giving me a direction to fly in.

"I need-" I panted. "help." Max grumbled, but took hold of Anya's other side.

"A hostage is not worth your life, Iggy," Max explained, huffing from the effort. I was about to open my mouth to respond when Angel joined us.

"Why is she so damn heavy?" Max asked. "Let's just drop her."

"No!" I yelled. I repositioned Anya, who started to slip. Her arms wrapped around my neck tightly, holding on for dear life. "Angel, you have to reverse your order!"

"What do you mean?" Max asked, slowly getting more and more irritated.

"Angel ordered that Anya couldn't leave your room last night under any circumstances! The order is still in affect and its pulling her back! Fix it!"

"Oh yeah!" Angel exclaimed. "Anya, you can leave Max's room, but you're still not allowed to leave the Flock."

And just like that, the weight lifted, and Anya felt as light as a feather. Her wings slowly started to push up and down, and she didn't need mine or Max's support anymore. She took off, remaining a couple feet to our left. Her wings lightly brushed the tip of mine as she let out a sigh of relief.

"Thanks for coming back for me," she mumbled. "I thought I was a goner, and they were going to take me back to the School."

"We _should_ have left you," Max spat, flying forward, silently seething.

"Don't worry about Max," I explained. "She'll warm up to you. She's really a nice gal once you get to know her." I almost laughed at myself. "Max" and "nice gal" didn't really go together. It's kind of like "good" and "morning".

To my surprise, Anya chuckled. "You are _so_ lying."

"Yeah..." I admitted. "She's always like this. But don't worry, you will learn to deal."

"Oh, really?" she asked, a smile in her voice.

"It will take time, and _a lot_ of patience, let me tell you."

She giggled, but then sighed, growing serious. "I don't want to go back to the School."

_I don't want you to go back, either._

What was I thinking? Sure, Anya understood me, she had a beautiful voice, and from what I felt, a great body-

But none of that mattered. What really mattered was Fang. And Anya was the key to getting him back. If our plan worked, she wouldn't be here for long, so why get attached? It would only lead to hurt in the end.

So no, Angel, she is not _Anya_. She's a _hostage_, and that is all she will ever be.

I grumbled something along the lines of "Well, that's the way it's going to be..." before flying ahead, catching up with Max.

"So, what's the plan?" I asked.

She fell silent. "I'll tell you when I think up of one."

I sighed. "Can we at least stop to rest soon. I feel like I haven't gotten sleep in ages."

"Suck it up," she mumbled. "We're all tired."

"If we're all tired, then why don't we stop to rest?" I argued.

She huffed. "Fine. I see an abandoned house 23 degrees north. Land and you can get your _precious_ rest."

I decided not to snap back, but not because I still had a nasty ache in my ribs. I just knew that right now, under our circumstances, I had to grow up. We just lost our home. Our plan is crumbling before our eyes. Time was running out. It was time to stop the childish bickering. It was time to stop drooling over the hostage. It was time...

To get a stinking watch.

"Max, what time is it?"

"Let me just check my watch that I had the money to buy," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

It took all my strength to bite my tongue, and keep in all the smart-ass remarks.

Growing up was going to be harder than I thought...

Just then, Anya...I mean, _the hostage_ appeared at my side.

"What's going on?" she asked, innocently. Oh yes, because she's so innocent, trying to draw me in with her...innocent-ness...

_ Wow, good argument. You should be a lawyer, Iggy._

_ Shut up._

_ Am I arguing with myself?_

_No_.

_Grow up._

I ground my teeth together, staring straight ahead into the darkness.

"Iggy?" she asked, flying closer.

I retreated, backing off.

"Iggy?" she repeated, the hurt audible in her voice.

"Leave me alone," I mumbled. _Stop speaking. Don't you understand what your voice does to me?_

I heard her stiffen. "Fine. Jerk." she huffed, flying off to the left, joining the Flock at the abandoned house, but not before mumbling a sly "you should have let me burn". I remained in the air, circling the roof, taking the first watch. Her last comment floated in my brain, gnawing at my insides.

Because as much as I wanted to agree with her, I couldn't...

_I couldn't._


	7. Chapter 7

Let's Make a Deal

By: Edna Baudelaire

Chapter Seven

Iggy's POV

The night slowly ticked by, as I sat on edge of the roof, listening intently. There were so many sounds out here, in the wilderness, in isolation. It wasn't like the city, where there was the constant murmur of a car's engine, or the relentless sound of electricity flowing around me. These sounds were much different, more pure. The cool air made the leaves laugh in the breeze, and roll across the hard ground. I picked up the soft pitter-patter of animal feet as they scurried to and fro. The course, scruffy texture of the roof felt cool to the touch as I lightly ran my hands across it. The rest of my body was frozen and tense, as my head was turned to the moon, unmoving and masked in seriousness.

I moved to the left a little, circulating the blood through my body. I was about to get up and stretch when I heard a sound that caused my stomach to drop: flapping wings. I closed my eyes, and jumped to my feet, tensing for a fight. I opened my ears, straining. They were coming closer-

"Hey," Anya said, landing lightly beside me.

I didn't relax my stance. "What are you doing?"

"I thought you might want a break."

I scoffed. "As soon as I leave you up here, you'll take off."

"I can't. Angel is making me stay with you guys. I can't leave."

I blinked. "Well, you can't leave, but that doesn't mean I can trust you."

To my surprise, she laughed. "If you can't beat them, join them."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I have given up," she said, flopping down with her back against the chimney. "There's no use. If Angel says it, I have to go back to the school. There's nothing I can do."

"Oh." That was all I could say. That's it. I cursed myself for being so antisocial. Here I am, standing on a roof, with a girl who was more than likely crying, and all I could manage was a meager "oh".

"I'm sorry," I started. "If it means anything to you-"

"Can you turn towards me a little more?" she interjected. "I'm sorry. It's dark, and it's hard to read your lips when you're turned away and the lighting is so horrible."

My mouth went dry. I managed a small nod, very aware of the fact that her eyes were trained on my lips. "If it means anything to you, I didn't want it this way."

"How so?"

"You're...you're not a bad person. You don't deserve this. I don't agree with Max, but she's the boss."

"As much as the screaming in my head disagrees, I would be doing the same thing in your position. It's a dog eat dog world. I'm just a pawn. I get it. It's the smart thing to do on your side of the fence. I was just caught up in the middle, that's all."

"How can you be OK with that?" I lashed out, my sudden outburst scaring myself. "I mean, don't you want to fight, to do something, anything?"

"Of course I do," she countered, sounding offended. "But what can I do, Iggy? As long as Angel can control me, I'm powerless. I mean, unless you-"

"I can't do anything either," I cut her off. I leaned my head against the chimney and closed my eyes.

"What's with the sudden outburst?" she asked. "I thought you would side with your Flock. I mean, surely whoever you're trading for is more valuable than little ol' me."

"Fang is my brother," I said. "But he...no one understands. No one can feel what I've been through. But...but you can." The words felt like poison in my mouth. Things were starting to get a tad bit too touchy for my taste. I expected Oprah to pop out from behind the chimney at any second.

"I know exactly how you feel," she said, scooting closer to me. I couldn't help but notice her scent. It was a pleasurable mixture of lilac, vanilla and ivory. I breathed it in again, enjoying the calming sensation.

"I just...I want to get to know you more. But I'm scared." I mentally slapped myself. Way to go Iggy! Way to sound like a total dweeb!

"Scared of what?" she asked, crunching a leaf between her fingers.

"Of getting hurt."

"I wouldn't hurt you-"

"I know you wouldn't. At least, I hope you wouldn't," I joked, trying to keep the conversation light and airy.

She laughed. "Seriously though, what are you scared of?"

"It's like...a dog."

"I'm like a dog?"

"Yes. I mean, no. Uh..yes." I rambled, tripping over my words.

Thankfully, she giggled. "So you're scared of me because I'm a dog?"

I smiled at her, but furrowed my brow. "No. Think of it this way. You buy a dog when it's a puppy. You grow up, and day by day, you grow more and more attached to that dog, until finally, it's like a part of you. And you know, one day, that dog will be gone. But you don't care, you'll love it anyways. And when that day comes, the world crashes down around you. You've lost a bit of yourself, a bit you can never get back."

"So, I'm the dog?"

"Yes."

"You don't want to get attached, because you know I won't be around for a long time."

"Bingo."

"It makes sense." She fell quiet after that, her breathing even. I was mentally slapping myself, appalled at what just occurred. I basically told her she was a dog, and I didn't want to hang out with her.

Man, and I wonder why the gals never climb all over me.

I kept opening my mouth, preparing to apologize, to say something, anything that might put a band aid on the wound I just created. But I could think of nothing, so I just sat there with my mouth opening and closing, looking like a dying fish.

"I think I'm going to go back to bed," she said, slowly standing up.

"Yeah, you'll want to rest up for tomorrow. Going to be a long day." Smooth.

"Alright. Good night, Dorothy." she said.

"Goo-wait, what?"

She giggled. "If I'm the dog, I get to be Toto. You get to be Dorothy."

I couldn't even invent a smart comeback to that. My throat became incredibly dry, and all I could manage was a smile.

"Sleep tight."

"Yeah," I cleared my throat. "Good night, Toto."

I heard a small chuckle escape her lips before the leaped from the roof, landing lightly on the leaf-strewn ground. She closed the door lightly, so as to not wake anyone.

Too late.

"What was that all about?" Max asked, anger dripping from her voice as she thud-thudded onto the roof.

I was momentarily frozen, and could only mumble a subtle "nothing".

"Nothing my ass!" she exclaimed. "What the hell do you think you're doing, fraternizing with the enemy?"

"I'm _not_ fraternizing with the enemy!" I argued, standing up to my full height, towering over her.

"Oh yeah right! Because your tone didn't sound threatening at all with her!" Even though we were arguing, our voices were never higher than a soft whisper. But I was finding it harder and harder to control myself. I could feel my whole body shaking. But with what? Was it guilt that I had been caught? Rage that she had heard our private conversation? Or denial, that I was actually feeling something for Anya, and my body was desperately trying to make my brain understand?

"I didn't do anything! She's the one that came to visit me while I was on watch!"

"Visit?" she countered. "Enemies don't _visit_, or _drop in_. They intrude. As long as you see it as a visit, she's _not_ your enemy."

"So what?" I ask, my wall breaking down around me.

"So what? So what!" her voice broke through the whisper and she was suddenly screaming. "If you're with her, then you're not with us!"

"Max, you're being melodramatic," I said through my teeth, trying desperately to keep my voice low and calm. "Go back inside. I will take your watch for you."

"Pick," she ordered.

I stumbled back. "What?"

"Us or her. Pick."

"Max, you can't be serious-"

"_I said, pick_."

"Max, you can't make me pick-"

_Slap_.

Just like that, her hand collided with my face. On impact, I couldn't feel a thing, only the numb surprise as her fingers molded with my face. Then, I felt the sting. Not only the physical but the mental. My hand slowly rose to my cheek, feeling the warmth beneath it. All my words were lodged in my throat, refusing to escape.

And before I knew it, my hands were wrapped around Max's throat and her left leg was sweeping me from under my feet. We landed on the roof with a prominent _thud_! I was sure if everyone in the house didn't wake up from Max's yelling, they were definitely up from the sounds of this scuffle.

Max lifted me to my feet, and threw me backwards against the chimney. The bricks crumbled around me, lodging into my back, my head. I quickly shot up, feeling dizzy and unsteady. And Max was on me again. She grabbed my left leg and jerked upwards, causing me to fall against the roof for a second time. All my breath escaped my lungs and I desperately searched for more. I quickly jerked my foot away, catching Max's face in the process. She spit to the side and then launched again, but this time I was ready. I leaped out of the way, landing in a crouch. I was quick, but Max was quicker. She hastily hooked in my direction, and before I even had time to breathe a sigh of relief, the roof was gone, and we were sailing through the air. I struggled to get free, but her arms were wrapped around my back, keeping my wings in place. I tried desperately to get my arms free, to push her away, but they were pinned to my sides, useless. Time flew by and I knew the ground was looming closer. I realized I finally found my voice as a blood-curdling scream left my aching throat. And then Max let go, releasing her wings, soaring upwards. I attempted to do the same, but it was too late. Before I knew it, my body collided with the hard forest ground. I heard a sharp crack, and then nothing more.

* * *

Oh! Intense! :D

Major twist coming up. Stay tuned.

Edna B.


	8. Chapter 8

Let's Make a Deal

By: Edna Baudelaire

Chapter Eight

Max's POV

The world stopped spinning. The air contained no oxygen. I looked down at Iggy, _my Iggy_, small, broken, frail upon the cold earth, wondering what exactly just happened. I was frozen, in time, in space, unable to move, unable to breathe the stale air. I could hear the others, shouting, running, screaming. I could see them rushing to Iggy, casting angry glances in my direction. I could only remain in the air, my wings flapping, unable to steer, to think, to move.

My head pounded, the temples screaming in agony. Something was wrong.

My senses rushed back, and suddenly I could feel everything. Every little beat of my heart, every feeble wisp of the wind, every cold glance from the others, every cell furiously running through my veins. I could feel it. I could feel it all.

I lightly touched down to the ground, and immediately, the others swarmed around, yelling crying. But I couldn't answer. No words could escape my broken mouth. I looked over at Iggy, pale in the moonlight, _so pale_. I shivered, remembering. Remembering that moment when I saw the look on his face, the fear. He was the little blind boy in the cage again, reaching out for my hand when the white coats would stroll in.

But most of all, I remembered the loss of control. At that moment, in the air, clutching Iggy's wings, I wasn't me. While arguing with Iggy, I was participating in an argument within myself. With the Voice. I was angry at Iggy, angry at him for fraternizing with the enemy. But the Voice was one step ahead, one level higher. He was furious, ordering me to get rid of Iggy, to get rid of Anya. One moment, I was screaming, my voice scratching my tired throat, and the next, my mind had gone blank, my hand snapping out towards Iggy's cheek. I remember the look on his face, the surprise, the hurt, but I couldn't do a damn thing about it. I was gone, locked up somewhere in the depths of my own sanity. He had taken over. The Voice. It was like watching a movie. I was sitting in an uncomfortable folding seat, watching this horror scene unfold before my eyes. There was no one there to hold my hand. No one there to console me, no reassuring arm. Nothing.

I remember screaming, as we rushed towards the ground. I didn't mean to do it. I _wanted_ to take my hands away from him, to set him free, but the Voice had clouded my mind. It took over, greedily, leaving me the scapegoat.

Reality rushed back like a tidal wave, careening me backwards.

"Max! You jerk!" Gazzy cried, his small fists pounding at my arm, but I couldn't feel it. The numbness had yet to ebb away. "Why?"

I pushed him aside, and sank down next to Iggy. A thousand _I'm sorry'_s swirled in my mind, formed in my throat, but couldn't pass through the gates of Hell. My hand slowly traveled up his arm, feeling his veins, the blood beneath, the movement. He was still alive.

"Get away from him." Anya stepped forward, a look of pure hatred plastered to her face. My indignation for her flared up once again, and I grasped Iggy's hand, refusing to let go. But then I remembered the feeling of losing control, of the Voice taking over. Fear flashed across my eyes, and I let go, sitting back. Anya looked surprised, but quickly regained her posture, kneeling next to Iggy. Her light, airy hands ran along his body. Her eyes closed, her chest rose and fell, slowly, slowly, slower, until it matched Iggy's.

She let out a lungful of breath and her eyes snapped open. "This may take a while."

"What may take a while?"I asked, my voice suddenly returning. I reached a protective hand over Iggy's, but Anya sent a glare in my direction. It took all my strength to retreat.

"Despite being deaf, I have other abilities," she said, her gaze hard, but her voice soft. She glanced towards Iggy, and her face softened.

"What do you mean, abilities?" I asked, retreating farther and farther into myself.

"I'm what you would call a Healer."

"You mean like magic?" Nudge asked, sinking down next to her, her face streaked with a river of tears.

To my surprise, Anya chuckled. "We're test tube babies. We can fly. You still believe in magic?"

Nudge's lips formed a silent "O" before returning her gaze back to Iggy.

"It's just another scientific addition I received." I thought I heard her mumble a small _thank goodness_, but I wasn't sure. Once again, she closed her eyes and ran her delicate hands over Iggy. Crazily, I wondered how she could deal with that, with being both deaf and blind at the same time. Doesn't she feel vulnerable?

"The damage is extensive," she stated. "His leg is broken. His arm is fractured. And it looks like his spinal cord has been damaged." She stopped, her hands running slower, her brow furrowing harder. "And I think a couple broken ribs."

"His back," I croaked. "Is it serious?"

"I can't tell for sure. I need to roll him over, but I can't. It's not safe with a broken back."

At that moment, Iggy's eyes fluttered open. At first, he blinked, confused, dazed, his lids groggily opening and closing, like a jammed window. But then those windows flew open, the breeze catching it by surprise. At that moment, all the fear and pain flew across his features and my heart ached. _I put him through this,_ I thought. _I did it_.

He forced his blind eyes shut, and gritted his teeth. His breath came out in short, heated gasps, making his broken body convulse violently. Anya put a hand on his chest, attempting to steady him, but he ignored it, desperately trying to sit up.

"Iggy, stay down. You're hurt," Anya ordered.

Of course, he ignored her.

And that's when we heard the snap.

It rung out like a thousand echoes, snapping like an old, dusty guitar string against the night sky. We all fell silent.

And so did Iggy.

His body stopped convulsing. His squirming ceased. The pain erased from his face. His eyes slowly opened, a look of peace crashed over like a tide.

"I can't feel it anymore," he said, his voice groggy. We all stood there, shocked, wondering what the hell just happened. The corners of Iggy's lips turned up slightly, then froze. His sightless eyes grew wide.

"I can't feel it anymore," he repeated, growing anxious. "I can't feel it anymore!"

I looked up at Anya. "What's going on?"

Anya slid her hands underneath Iggy, along the trails of his back, and her eyes widened. "This isn't good," she stated. "I need to flip him over, now."

"Won't that hurt him?" I asked, getting closer, reaching out for Iggy's hand, to reassure him. I squeezed his palm, but he didn't squeeze back.

"Can't you hear him?" Anya asked, desperate.

"Can't you?" The words tumbled from my mouth, and I flinched at my own sarcasm. She sent me a sharp glare before returning to Iggy.

"He said he 'can't feel it anymore'."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"My goodness, they told me you were supposed to be smart." She rolled her eyes. "He's paralyzed, thanks to you."

I reeled back. "Me! It wasn't me, it was-" I stopped. She wouldn't believe me. Why bother?

"It doesn't matter now. Just help me flip him," she ordered, repositioning. I followed suit, wrapping my arms around Iggy. His eyes were shut, his lips moving silently.

"Can you fix him?" I asked, shaking.

She shot me a glance before nodding. "We need to get him turned over first. I can't reach his back this way. On three. And remember to be gentle. Don't mess too much with his back. Keep it straight. One, two...three."

I pushed, very aware of how limp his body felt. Anya sat closer, laying her hands on his back, breathing evenly. Her brows furrowed together. "You might want to take a seat," she told us. "This may take a while."

"I'll stay here," I announced, clasping Iggy's hand. Anya shot me another look. If pictures spoke a thousand words, her looks shouted a million. It was full of distrust, hatred, anger and blame. I held her gaze, the old Max coming into focus.

She _humphed_ before setting to work.

…

She was right. It did take a while. Three hours to be exact. The others soon fell asleep, draped across each other, snoring lightly. But I remained awake, clutching Iggy's limp hand as Anya sashayed her hands across his back in delicate patterns, determination inebriated within her features. I took that moment to study her. Her light brown, almost auburn hair was naturally curly, framing her face with an array of shades and tints. Her eyes were dark brown, almost black, and just as intense. Her jawbones were sharp and angular, her hands, soft and gentle. I could tell she's never been though what we've been through, never seen our troubles.

And I bet she sure as Hell has never eaten desert rat.

Just by looking at her, I could guarantee that she didn't grow up in a cage. She looked like she was lavished and had a healthy living style. The pigment of her skin was light, unlike ours, darkened by the never ending sun. She didn't have that slight curve to her back, the one we got from cramping low in our cages for all those years. Her back was pinpoint straight, perfect.

No, she wasn't like us.

Except for that itty bitty 2 percent of DNA we shared. Her wings were a light tan, with flecks of white throughout. They fell open while she concentrated, splayed across the ground carelessly.

My gaze drew back to her hands. What had they done to her? What had they done to turn her into a healer? Something like that would be very useful in our flock.

Scratch that. _Someone_ like that would be very useful in our flock.

No. What was I thinking? Anya could never be a part of my flock. I'm forgetting the real goal here. Fang. Fang is worth the world to me. I would give anything to get him back.

_Anything_.

"Done," Anya announced, her voice soft, spent. Her hands fell beside her, and an exhausted look crossed her face.

"Is he-did you-is he OK?" I asked, shaking his limp hand.

"Yes," she said. "He's just sleeping. His back's all healed. He needs to take it easy for a while though. His ribs and arm and leg were quick work."

"Thank you," I said after a moments pause.

She looked at me skeptically. "Why did you do it?"

I glanced over at the others, sighing. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

She snorted. "Please. We have wings. I just fixed a broken back with my bare hands. I don't think there's anything you can tell me that I wouldn't believe. Trust me."

I took a deep breath. "Well, you see-"

Footsteps crashed through the undergrowth to my left, to my right. My head flew to the side. I knew those footsteps.

Erasers.

I jumped up, on high alert. Anya, oblivious to the sounds, looked perplexed.

"Erasers," I said. Her eyes grew wide. "We need to skee-daddle. _Now_."

* * *

**I really hope you guys are enjoying this fic :D Drop a review and tell me what you think. Ever little review makes my day.**

**Edna B.**


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